


A Song Before Dying

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Series: The Threshold Universe [3]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 15:35:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19359829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: Fog hung over the quiet, empty street like a shroud, erasing shadows and hiding secrets from curious eyes. From somewhere in the distance came the faint sound of music, wafting eerily on the moisture-filled air. Tree toads and katydids lent the last of their dying voice to the end of summer, frail and sporadic.I was dying.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Final story in my "Threshold Universe." Originally printed in Quantum Fire.

September 26, 1968:

 

Fog hung over the quiet, empty street like a shroud, erasing shadows and hiding secrets from curious eyes. From somewhere in the distance came the faint sound of music, wafting eerily on the moisture-filled air. Tree toads and katydids lent the last of their dying voice to the end of summer, frail and sporadic.

I was dying.

Having a medical degree was hardly worth anything, if you couldn't even tell when you were dying. A case of the wrong place at the wrong time. I'd leaped in just in time to feel the pain and hear the noise. In the time it took me to fall to the ground, the haunting silence had descended, and I was alone. On the other hand, if I'd been here from the beginning, I'd be dead by now.

There wasn't a lot I could do, except wait and wonder why I'd been sent to take his place.

Gunshot wounds. One of them seemed to have hit a vital organ, as best I could tell. There was a pool of red on the pavement around me, glistening like a black, murky patch of dye. I could smell it when the breeze hit a certain way, that tangy, coppery odor from my veins.

 _Die without help._ Was I there to get help for this poor bastard? There were limits to what a mere man could do, surely the Forces would see that? Simply holding consciousness was hard enough. It was late and the street deserted. Not even a car passed by.

A part of my mind refused to accept what was happening. How could this be? Mere minutes ago I was alive and well in--wherever I went between leaps. The next thing I know I'm getting a hole blasted in my body that was meant for him, and he's safe and sound in the Waiting Room in the future. Wasn't that how it worked? It was becoming hard to think, my mind was as fuzzy as the surroundings.

 _Future_...Al. Al was in the future. His hologram hadn't shown up yet. Of all the times to be late. Not that he could do much of anything...except watch me die. Thank God he was late.

_Let him be too late..._

I was as scared as I'd ever been. I desperately needed his voice, needed him to ease me into the beyond with soothing words and encouragement...but the price was too high for him to pay this time. Maybe, finally, God would cut Al a break.

What would it be like to die? Maybe I'd find out what my between leap time was like, forever. I often wondered what kind of place it was, if I was aware while there, but forgot it as soon as I left. Maybe this was how it was to end for me--my final leap.

Still, why was I here? There had to be a reason. I looked around. Emptiness. I stared down at the pool of blood, transfixed. Was it part mine, part his? There were smears outside of the puddle, almost looked like writing. Maybe he had been trying to write the name of his killer before he leaped out and left me to take the rest of the bullets meant for him. Great time to leap me in, guys...couldn't even let him finish? How was I supposed to know what happened here?

Would he be able to tell Al who the killer was?

I studied the marks through heavy eyelids. It looked like M-u r-p---What could that be? Murphy? They were always named Murphy in the movies, weren't they? I really couldn't remember. It seemed like a shot though, and what did I have to lose?

I finished the name, neatly as I was able. Murphy. Pleased with myself, I waited for the tingling salvation to come. Nothing. Well, I'd tried. I noticed a wallet laying beside me. Maybe it had been a mugging. My weak fingers reached out unsteadily. Finally, I grasped the edge and managed to pull it towards me, through the puddle. I slid the driver's license out of the plastic sleeve. In the light from the streetlamp, I made out the name--my name. Murphy.

So much for my deductive reasoning. It was his own name he was scrawling. Perhaps he thought they'd taken his wallet, and wanted to let those who found the body know who he was. Who would find the body?

_Please God, not Al._

Those tree toads faded into silence. They'd given their last breath to sing for me before dying. I waited to join them.

And wished for Al to be there. Longed for the feel of his hand as I felt this world. But it seemed I wasn't even going to be allowed that, not even one final time.

God, forgive me, I wanted Al there.

 

* * *

 

I arrived on the scene, blinking a little in the gloom. Spooky, was my first impression of the place. The fog and strange echoes didn't help any. Sam was supposed to be around somewhere. Ziggy predicted he was there to save a man named Kean Murphy from getting killed. I glanced around, finally making out a dark lump on the side of the road. Curious, I moved to get a closer look.

And my heart stopped.

It was Sam. Sam in a pool of blood. Sightless eyes stared up at me... Bile rose in my throat as I threw myself to my knees in front of him. "No!" I screamed to the sky. My worst fear had come to pass--I hadn't gotten there in time to help him this time.

I flung my arms out desperately, sobbing as they passed through thin air. "It's not fair!" I yelled upward. "You've got to at least let me hold him one last time, you bastard!"

I threw myself at Sam, through Sam, barely feeling it as my body connected heavily with the floor of the Imaging Chamber. Then, the world went black.

 

* * *

 

I woke up screaming. I was flat on my back in bed and for one, glorious moment, dared to believe the vivid image in my head was just a dream.

Hands were on my arms, holding me down as I struggled. "Al--Al! Take it easy..."

I opened my eyes to find myself in the Project Infirmary. The hands were Verbena's.

"If you don't calm down, I'm going to have to give you a sedative," she was telling me. I barely paid any attention to her voice.

I turned my head on the pillow as the tears began, trying to hide my welling grief from eyes that couldn't possibly understand. I felt unbearably old, only an empty shell instead of a whole person. It was a shock, running through my system to eat out the rotten remains of my worthless life. Taking the last shred of meaning. The last shred of sanity.

Sam...

"Al," her voice continued, "talk to me. You scared us half to death, the way you collapsed like that."

The way I--could it be they didn't know yet? My pain intensified. I'd have to tell them Sam was...

"Sam..." I moaned, trying to bury my face further into the pillow.

"The sooner you calm down and recover, the sooner you can see him again," she told me in a firm, bullying voice.

Something inside let loose at her words. I sprung up to a sitting position, meeting her eyes. "See him again?! Sure I can see him again--as soon as I find a way to join him!"

Escape was now uppermost on my mind. Not just from the infirmary-- from everything. The way she was watching me, I knew if I didn't do it now, I'd likely loose my chance. The moment her gaze wavered, I jumped out of bed and grabbed the knife which lay so invitingly on the table. As if it was there for me, waiting.

Unfortunately, being uncoordinated slowed me down. Verbena was faster. The next thing I knew, something was pricking my arm.

"No!" I fought against the drug, refusing to let it take me into an unconsciousness I'd wake up form.

"Al!" the concern in her voice grew. "You've got to pull yourself together! What the hell is going on, what happened? Sam needs you, mister, so get it together!"

"Sam's dead!" I finally screamed. The room was unnaturally quiet following my outburst.

"What are you talking about?" she asked after a moment. "He can't be, Ziggy still has a lock on his brain waves. Normal brain waves. As far as we know, he's fine."

Could it be true? No, it was just another cruel joke on me. I didn't dare hope. I was confused, my mind growing fuzzier as the drug took effect. Had to figure out what was going on. Had to...

 

* * *

Awareness returned slowly, I guess because I wasn't expecting it to at all. There was no blinding light, no Dad and Tom to greet me...no, that was wrong. Tom was alive...at least I thought he was.

Another clue in the mystery; I ached all over, bone deep. I didn't think you felt any pain when you were dead, but then, I'd never been dead before, so I really couldn't say for sure.

I hoped I was. The alternative meant I was still on that miserable street with a hole in me. Numb, dying slowly. And alone.

The pain welled up and squeezed out of my tightly closed eyes. "Al..." I couldn't stop the moan from escaping my lips.

"Sam?" a hushed voice, close by whispered.

He'd arrived. Now I'd have to open my eyes and look at him, face the pain and horror in his. Torn, I bit my lip. Part of me wanted to send him away, but I needed desperately to see his face, just one more time. At least for now.

I took as deep a breath as I could manage through the pain, and opened my eyes. It was so dim I could barely see, but Al was there in front of me. He seemed to glow, almost. If I looked real close I could see a...halo...but I didn't necessarily like the implications of that. He wasn't supposed to be...here.

Otherwise, he looked worse than I'd imagined. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, his clothes a wrinkled mess. His face...I hadn't seen it that pain filled, ever. Not when he lost Beth the second time, not even when he talked about Trudy. I responded to it with the beginning of panic, slowly spreading through my mind.

"Am I dead?" I rasped, confused. I needed answers--fast.

He sagged, and for a moment I thought he was going to pass out. "No, no Sammy, you're not dead..."

But he really didn't seem too sure of his words. His hands were shaking badly. He seemed to realize I'd noticed, and shoved them deep into his pockets to hide it. The more I looked at him, the more my panic grew. There was something dreadfully wrong here.

I tried to struggle to a sitting position. "You're not dead, are you?" I said the firs possibility that came into my head, crying with fear and denial.

Al went even whiter than he was before, and put a hand out as if to grip something for support, meeting only thin air. He wavered a moment before regaining his balance.

I couldn't recall ever feeling such terror in my life. I needed him to tell me everything was going to be all right, but I doubted he was going to, this time. "Al--for God's sake?!" I sobbed, almost at my limit.

"No, I'm not dead either!" he screamed at me in a sudden outburst.

It was becoming harder to breathe. I struggled desperately for a few moments, until I realized I was only hyperventilating. I forced some calmness and concentrated carefully on breathing. While doing that, I made a startling discovery--I was lying in a bed, in a room that looked suspiciously like a hospital. Which was impossible. Oh, not that it couldn't be a hospital, but that I could be still alive. Those wounds should have been fatal within minutes. Things were getting weirder, but now that I'd ascertained we were both alive, I was less scared.

"I'm in a hospital," I observed, peering around more closely.

"You--didn't know?" he croaked.

But Al was definitely looking like he was coming unglued.

"God, Sammy, I'm sorry..." He took a few steps closer to the bed, then stopped abruptly. "I thought you knew."

Now that I was getting a better foothold on things, I even dared look down at myself to assess the damage.

There wasn't any.

No bandages, no blood, no tubes, nothing. Except for my soreness, there was no physical sign of what had happened. "Did I leap out?" I asked Al in confusion.

He shook his head, but didn't volunteer any information.

Then a another thought hit me, in its way almost more terrifying than thinking I was dead. Maybe the whole thing was just a flashback--punishment for my rash decision to take part in an LSD experiment in a previous leap. The realization that I might very well be leaping through time, never knowing when they might hit...

Was that why Al was acting this way?'

No. I could tell by Al's reaction, it was worse than a flashback. Much worse. I might be calming down, but he sure wasn't improving. He was standing there, staring at me with a strange look of horrified awe on his face.

"It's okay," I tried to soothe feebly. "I guess. I feel okay, at least. I remember leaping in and finding out I was being shot--"

The look that flickered across his face at my statement explained at least part of his reaction. My stomach churned. He'd been there and seen for himself.

"Oh, Al...I'm sorry." For the trillionth time I cursed the part of the experiment that prevented me from reaching out and touching my best friend. At that moment, he needed it more than I ever had. I wracked my brain. What words could I say to help him?

He came up to the edge of the bed. "You died," he stated. "I saw you. You were dead."

His voice had taken on an eerie, quiet tone. A sudden chill whipped through the room, and I hugged my arms to chase it away. He was right. I remember the pain, then fading slowly, until...

"Am I still Murphy?" I asked. A glance at the band on my wrist confirmed that I was. The plot was getting weirder yet.

Abruptly, he was animated again. "They don't believe me--but I saw you!" he yelled.

Never had I seen Al like this before, even when I first met him and he was wallowing in his despair. And recently, he was always the strong one. It was a strange turn around, but I owed him--more than I could count.

"I know I did," I told him softly, watching his eyes widen. "You're not imagining things. Unless we're both crazy," I added ruefully, with a trace of amusement I hoped would ease the tension just a little. "But I'm all right now, Al," I crooned in my most gentle voice. "See?" I sat up as further proof, arranging the pillows more comfortably. "I'm okay."

I waited. Finally he seemed to collapse in on himself, as if the knot of tension holding him together had vanished. I only hoped he was strong enough to get on without it.

Al sat on the floor, pushing some buttons on the handlink to raise himself so he could be level with the bed. I was glad. I wondered how he'd managed to stay on his feet that long as it was. He ran a tired hand through his hair.

"Are you growing your hair?" I asked for a distraction,watching him. Maybe a forced delve into mundane things would help.

He shrugged, but at least he answered. "Haven't had time for a cut lately." The shaking was easing off, down to sporadic tremors.

I dared speak what was on my mind. "Why don't you get Beeks to give you something..." He really looked like he could use something to calm him down. In fact, he was frighteningly close to the edge.

"She already did."

Oh.

I gazed at Al, hurting for him. He looked so pathetic and vulnerable. I would have given anything to be able to pull him into the bed with me, rock him in my arms and smooth away the pain. It was me--seeing me 'die' had done this to him. It was a sobering and remarkable thought. There was so much I wanted to say--but I was afraid it wouldn't be a good time for anything heavy, for Al's well being.

"I'm sorry, Al..." I couldn't help repeating in a low voice.

His head came up, eyes meeting mine. "It's your fault?" he asked.

It was--almost--a bit of humor. I relaxed a centimeter. "No," I admitted. "I don't think so. If I'm okay, why am I in the hospital?"

He consulted the handlink. For a moment, I thought he was going to do a dive on me after all, but he recovered himself. "Your name is Kean Murphy. It's September 26, 1968. You were found by a motorist and brought here, suffering from all the psychological manifestations of gunshot wounds--but none of the physical. Kean originally got a clean bill of health from the doctor, and his psychiatrist got a new Rolls."

"How is Murphy, in the Waiting Room?"

"Just fine, once they convinced him he wasn't dead," Al answered, almost distractedly.

"No gunshot wounds?" Al shook his head. "Could it be he's insane, and I retained part of his hallucination when I leaped in?"

Al spared a moment from his serious button-pushing to favor me with a simple look that spoke volumes. I wanted to kick myself for reminding him of what he'd walked into. I had no doubt in Al's perceptions, or the haunted look which lingered in his eyes.

"I know," I said as gently as i could.

He waved a hand in the air dismissively. "But it's not possible. Maybe I did see your hallucination." He seemed relieved at the idea.

"Anything's possible in quantum physics," I reminded him. I pointed a finger toward the ceiling. "And if you add Him to the equation, who knows?"

Al considered it, and seemed to find the possibility worthy of putting to Ziggy. As he worked, I caught him stealing glances at me kind of like I was a walking miracle.

"Ziggy isn't talking yet," he informed me, glaring at the link. "Says he needs further data before he can make his projections."

I tried to make some of my own. I'd leaped into a man who was in the process of being shot, and took several bullets myself. I felt the pain, saw the blood. Felt the life slipping away from me. Al had arrived and seen... Yet I was fine now, and Murphy was healthy back in the Waiting Room, except for thinking he'd been shot. Which all added up to...a big blank.

"Maybe it's just the way Whoever's running things wants it this time?" I suggested, for want of a better explanation.

Al shivered a little. "Maybe," was all he said, and not very convincingly.

"There has to be a reasonable explanation," I insisted.

"What happened to 'anything's possible'? That's as long as it's scientific and/or provable, right?" His eyes darted around the room nervously, studying shadows.

"At least for tonight, yes. I don't think either of us needs to be any more scared than he already was, do you?"

He rubbed a hand over his face and nodded. He was wiped, his earlier emotional breakdown had burned up his reserves and he was running on empty. "I could use a drink," he commented.

I smiled at him. "Why don't you go and get some rest? I'll see you in the morning."

"I'm okay," he brushed the suggestion off, not moving.

"I mean it Al, you're exhausted."

"I'm fine," he repeated.

"You need sleep. I'll be okay," I assured in my most persuasive tone.

"Leave it alone, Sam."

"Al--" I warned.

"I can't!" he finally blurted out.

"Why?" I asked, wondering if he was afraid getting some sleep would bring nightmares. I couldn't blame him there.

He sighed resignedly. "If I leave, she probably won't let me come back. At least not...right away."

"Who?"

"Beeks," he answered in the same resigned tone.

The admission hung there between us silently. He didn't need to say anything more. If she would actually do something that drastic in the middle of a leap...

An iceberg the size of Alaska made itself at home in my stomach. Verbena was not a woman given to rash decisions, she was a highly-skilled professional. I studied Al more closely. There was obviously more going on than I was privy to, and it wasn't likely I'd get any answers out of him yet.

He noticed my scrutiny. "I'll be okay. I'd never do anything that would hurt you or jeopardize the leap, you know that, don't you?!" he demanded pleadingly. "I promise, I'll be fine!" He was becoming distraught again.

I tried to smile but it didn't quite word, so I settled for an earnest face. "You know I trust you, Al. Over anyone."

It seemed to settle him. He gave me a slight grin. "I just got...a little shook up. I'll be a lot better in the morning."

He was so open and vulnerable, even while he tried to hide it. It made me realize how much I took for granted. How much I leaned on him, without thought for his strength. Yet, if I tried to balance the scales, he wouldn't let me. Implying that he needed me to lean on was, to him, equal to saying he was letting me down.

I found I could give him a real smile now. "You're a stubborn man, Al Calavicci." I patted the bed beside me. "But at least you'll be right where I can keep an eye on you, and make sure you really rest."

He stretched out on the floor, next to me. "That sounds familiar-- I could swear I've heard those words before, and I don't think it was from your mouth. Although I could swear it was someone we both know..."

"Shut up and go to sleep, wise guy," I ordered, trying to imitate the admiral's stern tone. I needn't have prodded, because he was already drifting off, exhaustion claiming him.

"No bedtime story..." he mumbled, half asleep.

I sighed. "I love you Al..."

"That's the best bedtime story I ever heard..." he mumbled, then was silent.

I gave the air that was his forehead a kiss, willing him to at least feel it in his soul, if you couldn't on his skin.

I watched him sleep for awhile, to be sure it was peaceful and nightmare-free.

Wondering how close to the edge he really was.

 

* * *

 

When I woke up, the night was still dark and the building quiet. Al's steady breathing beside me was infinitely comforting. It was a unique but pleasant experience having him beside me all night, and all I wanted to do was watch him sleep.

My body might have craved sleep, but my mind was wide awake. Naturally, it won. So I rested, watching Al and letting it run loose. What if Al wasn't better by tomorrow? I had a crazy leap to get through and the thought that I might have to do it by myself was something I didn't dare contemplate. Al was always with me--every step of the way. There was no doubt in my mind that there were many times I wouldn't have made it without him.

Did I ever think a day like this might come? Plenty of things could happen to prevent Al from coming to me. Yet I always expected him to be there, and with the answers. When he didn't have them, I usually reacted by bitching at him. It was because the alternative wasn't something I could face. I took it out on him, because I needed him more than I cared to admit. A simple word of encouragement from Al and I could find a way to do the impossible. A word of reproach and I felt worthless. He was all I had while leaping. And I'd built up a hell of a dependence, one too scary for me to deal with.

"Oh Al, I've put you through so much..." I murmured with a sigh. So many things I could only say when he wasn't able to listen.

Now, I wondered if that dependency might be working both ways. I stared at him in fascination. Could it be that he needed me just as much? Hard to believe, since I was the one leaping around in time. What did I give him, besides trouble?

One thought fixed itself in my mind and try as I might, wouldn't go away. He must really love me a lot to put up with it all...more than just as a platonic friend? Enough to almost have a nervous breakdown when he thought I'd died. What would have happened to him if I had? I shuddered at the thought.

We were close before I leaped, but the years of traveling in time had created an even deeper bond. We'd never talked about any of the changes taking place in our relationship, or their implications. How much did he love me now? What was I to him?

And what was he to me? I felt like a whole new reality was opening up for me, limitless with possibilities. When I'd finally remembered I was bisexual, I'd assumed I never told Al because of his obvious hetero-Naval mentality. What if I had deeper reasons for my silence? could I have loved him then--was I in love with him now? I'd asked myself that once before, but had been afraid to find out.

Yes. There was no other answer. Everything I'd been blocking out for years threatened to burst from the shadows. Yet I was still afraid to take them out into the light and look at them with open eyes. I had a feeling some of those memories might hurt.

As might reality, with him so close, yet so far away.

What was going on in Al's head? It was his extreme reaction to believing I was dead that had gotten me thinking. If this didn't shake something loose... I couldn't talk to him about these things yet, he needed time and healing. My answers would have to hold until he was stronger. Until then, all I could do was wait and watch--carefully.

It was these thoughts which kept me company while I listened to Al's quiet breathing, and eventually, I fell into a weary sleep.

 

* * *

 

Al slept through the entire doctor visit the next morning. I was kind of disappointed, I would have liked for him to have seen my great snow job. Unlike Murphy, I wasn't about to go yelling that I'd been shot. I played dumb, muttered about job-related stress and got myself released.

I was dressed and sitting in the chair when Al groaned and rolled over. His eyes snapped open and he glanced around the room wildly, only relaxing when he saw me.

"Good morning," I managed past the lump in my throat. The more I looked at him this morning, the more I loved him. I longed for the day when I could tell him so.

He sat up, rubbing his face. He seemed slightly disoriented.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"I feel as rumpled as my clothes. So what are you doing?" 

"Waiting for you to wake up, so I can get out of this place."

"They released you?" He pulled out the handlink and went to work. I wished he could just relax, take a vacation. I hated seeing him practically have to wake up with the link in his hand.

"Of course. They don't know what happened to me, and I didn't volunteer the information."

He smiled slightly and cocked an eyebrow at me. "Learned from my mistake, huh?"

"You should have seen my performance, Al! You would have been proud of me. I"ve been released. So now what?"

He sighed in frustration. "I don't know what's going on. Originally, Ziggy told me you were here to save Murphy from dying--last night." He met my eyes. "Then when we were talking, remember, he said Murphy got released but never recovered fully. He sold his house, moved away, and spent years in therapy. So how can he have done both?!" he demanded, agitated.

"Maybe that's what I changed," I suggested.

"No, you changed it by keeping your mouth shut about last night."

"What happens to Murphy now?"

His eyes took on a strange look, like a trapped animals. "Ziggy can't say yet, isn't saying, whatever." He looked up at me again. "He won't tell me. I know that's what it is."

 _Paranoia_? Great... "Hey--" I tried to soothe, "you know how he gets. Why don't we get out of here and find Murphy's house? Maybe we'll know something by then."

Al shrugged. "Whatever."

 

* * *

 

I poked around the house looking for information, while Al paced. He was going to be a handful in this condition, and I hadn't a clue as to how I was going to handle him.

He seemed to have woken up enough to get his nervous energy back. "Ah hah!" he yelled.

I almost dropped the pitcher of ice tea I was taking out of the refrigerator. I dared a glance in Al's direction. His eyes were lit with a manic zeal. "Ah hah, what?"

"Ziggy says that last night--for just an instant--you blinked out. Nothing. That was right before they pulled me out of the Imaging Chamber," he rushed on, to cover the slip he hadn't meant to make, "except the putz is only giving it a thirty-percent that you did...you know."

_Pulled him out of the..._

I decided even if he would've told me, I didn't want to know. "Al." I put the pitcher down on the table and approached him. "We have to talk."

"About what?" he asked innocently, though he was shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"You can't go on like this." I softened my voice, making it coaxing. "You need to eat, drink--go to the bathroom," I quipped with a smile.

He stood there for a few minutes, finally answering in a low voice. "You're not gonna leave me alone until I do, are you?"

I shook my head, playing my ace. "I'd like to get some breakfast myself--but I'm not going to eat while you watch me, starving. So if you don't go back, we both go hungry."

"You didn't eat at the hospital--"

I shook my head.

He battled with indecision for a minute. "Okay. I guess if you can convince a doctor you're sane, so can I."

I chuckled as he waved goodbye.

"But I'm not leaving till I see you're fixing breakfast," Al told me firmly.

I sighed and turned to the refrigerator again. However, my good humor faded quickly as I realized I hadn't heard the sound of the doorway. I spun around to face thin air angrily. "Dammit Al!" I yelled. "I know you didn't leave the Imaging Chamber!"

He popped back in, looking like the little boy who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

My anger evaporated. "You really think she'll stop you from coming back?"

He nodded sadly. "She'll want to keep me for observation."

I again wondered what he wasn't saying. He needed to eat and rest, but I knew what it would do to him to be cut off from me. Surely Verbena also knew that? Al couldn't barricade himself in the Imaging Chamber forever, and the longer he did, the worse he made his case.

"We gotta find a solution to this, Al. You can't go without nourishment--you won't be doing either of us any good if you collapse."

He shuddered, and I was almost sorry for speaking so plainly. But he had to face it sometime soon. "I'm open to suggestions?" he said pleadingly.

Al was looking to me for the miracle. This leap was definitely all turned around and crazy. "I want to talk to her myself!" I finally burst out.

"I can't bring her in here!" he complained. "She'll grab me in a second."

"I can talk to her through the link."

I could tell by his expression that he hadn't though of that. He pushed a few buttons, relaying the information to the project. "She wants to know how she can be sure it's you asking," he muttered, discouraged.

It was my turn to pace the room, as if I'd think better on the move. I needed to mention something the two of us would know, but Al wouldn't...it finally came to me. There was a talk I'd had with Beeks once, when I was at a rough spot in my life and contemplating--a lot of things. "Tell her I said to mention Raymond."

Al looked at me curiously, but did as told. "She says okay, she believes it's you."

"Good. Now tell her I said you're doing better."

He cursed under his breath when he got the answer. "If that's true, why won't he come out?" he repeated.

She was being clever, this wasn't going to be easy. "Ask her how she thinks you'd react if kept away from me during a leap."

He threw up his hands in disgust, and repeated her latest beef. "How do we know Al is telling you the truth about this conversation?"

"Tell her I'm looking over your shoulder at the link." I wasn't of course, I was still pacing. I read the gratitude for that in his eyes, and gave him a smile.

"She wants me to come out, as a show of good faith. I'm not going," he informed me.

I was reaching the breaking point. If I could have, I would've strangled both Beeks and Al. "Tell her I'm the Project head and I say you're to eat, then be allowed to come back."

We both held our breaths for the answer. Her evasiveness wasn't a good sign. If we could only get her to give her word, I knew she'd honor it.

I saw her answer in Al's eyes. He raised the hand with the link, about to hurl it in rage.

"Al, no!"

He stopped, just in time. He plopped down onto the floor cross- legged, head in hands.

"What'd she say? Al, what is it?" I crouched down next to him in alarm.

"She says if she observes me to be okay, she'll let me come back. Her patient's welfare comes first and you should be concerned about that yourself." It was delivered in a flat monotone of resignation.

Surely Al could convince her he was well enough to come back, couldn't he? I studied him. He was starting to shake again, hugging himself and rocking slightly. I asked myself what I would do if I were Beeks, and took one look at him.

"Shit!" I swore loudly.

"Sorry Sam, I just can't seem to...stop acting like this." He brushed at his jacket. "I must look real sharp," he said scornfully.

Sudden mood swings, nervousness...I had to face the truth, for Al's sake. He was in the middle of a serious nervous breakdown. I had to find a way to help him.

I grinned affectionately. "You look like a rumpled hologram. If you had a cigar with you, you could be Colombo." How I wished it was only tobacco deprivation he was suffering from. And he was suffering.

"Maybe he could solve this one, I'm sure as hell worthless on this one."

"It's okay," I soothed. "Your mind's just having trouble balancing the conflicting date it received." I slapped the floor in frustration. "And if Verbena would just let you go get some rest, shower, eat, I bet you'd feel a hundred-percent better. I ought to fire her!"

"It could be worse. At least she's being honest, she could've tried to trick me into coming out. And she's only doing her job."

"Yeah, well I want you to tell her I said she's making things worse!"

The opinion was relayed. "She says you should try to convince me to surrender," he said wryly.

"You tell her we haven't yet begun to fight!"

That got a small smile out of him. He watched the screen, a confused frown wrinkling his forehead. He shook his head. "She knows my knowledge of Chinese is limited. This isn't for my eyes." He held out the link so I could read it.

I studied it, trying to school my face into neutral. It wasn't easy, considering what she had to say to me. Most was the expected, he needed help, she was very worried about him. But the last part must have broken my poker face all to hell...

She said he was suicidal. That when he thought I was dead he'd tried to...

There was a thousand pound weight on my shoulders and it was crushing me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to close my eyes and pretend it was all just a bad dream.

At that moment I would have gladly taken the handlink and smashed it into a million pieces--along with the Accelerator, Ziggy...I had to prove it worked. Had to have my way. Now I looked at Al, and knew what it had cost my best friend. The man who loved me more than anyone else ever would or could. The one who would rather die than live without me...

I clamped down as hard as I could on my reaction. There was more, and I struggled to read it through blurry eyes. It was an update on the leap. Ziggy said I'd changed history. Now, in three days, Murphy's body would be found in the woods, sliced up.

I sat there, numb. All I could do was envision what would happen to Al if I ended up in little pieces. Finally, I realized he was questioning me frantically. I pulled myself together and prepared to lie. The next days were crucial, and I had to be very careful not to screw up.

"I'm okay," I told him. "But she won't budge."

Maybe he had a suspicion she told me what he'd done, maybe he was just unstable enough to be placated by my lame assurances. At one time it never would have fooled him.

"I know," he said. "I didn't think she would. You remember when she kept you sedated for three days, to get you to take the rest you needed?"

"You can't stay here without food, Al."

"I know that too," he answered quietly. His expression said how he'd feel about walking out that door.

"Unless--unless I can complete the leap right away!"

He regarded me. "And how do you propose to do that? We don't even know why you're here?"

 _You don't._ "By snooping around and finding out why I'm here." It wasn't entirely a lie. Knowing I was there to save Murphy didn't tell me from who or what. "But if I don't--you have to promise me that you'll go back tonight, and at least eat something."

He sighed. "Well, okay. Late tonight. She can't stay awake forever, and one guard--I should be able to--"

"Al!" I interrupted him. "That wouldn't look very good on your behalf, now would it?"

"They can't have me until you leap out." His final word on the subject.

  

* * *

 

I fixed myself a sandwich in the kitchen, while Al sat in the living room, fiddling with the link for information Ziggy wasn't about to give him. I finished in a couple of bites, washing down each guilty mouthful with ice tea.

I was frantic. If I didn't figure out how to help both of us soon, I was going to go off the deep end myself.

"You're a landscaper," Al informed me when I returned to him. "Own business. Guess you'd better check, and make sure you're not supposed to be anywhere." He pointed the link toward a door. "Office through there."

He didn't follow, staying in his spot on the floor. It was rare to see Al sit while a hologram; this leap, rare to see him standing.

I found the appointment calendar with no problem, and studied it. "Hey Al--" I called. "Murphy canceled his latest job. So I guess I'm off until another comes up."

"That's good, you won't have to worry about work," he commented absently.

I didn't think it was necessarily so good. It seemed odd he would give up a job so suddenly. A person in business for himself is usually thankful when he has work. Murphy's surroundings were comfortable, but they didn't speak of someone who could afford to turn down paying customers.

I was coming back into the living room still pondering it, when the doorbell rang. I flinched in sympathetic pain as Al jumped at the unexpected noise.

I opened the door to a tall, serious looking police officer. His name tag identified him as Sergeant Theodore Rich.

"Yes?" I asked, wondering what turn things were about to take.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Murphy. Do you have a minute?" he asked, pointedly waiting for me to invite him in.

"Oh, sure. I'm sorry." I stepped aside and waved him inside, glancing at Al. He was standing now, watching intently.

I had the impression that the cop and Murphy knew each other, but only as acquaintances. Rich wasn't a man for small talk, got right into it. "I heard you were taken to the hospital last night. I hope it wasn't anything to do with the situation you reported to us."

I decided to hedge and hope he'd tell me himself what was going on. "Uh--no, not exactly. It was--a stress related problem."

Rich nodded. "I know you're concerned with what's going on out in the woods, but maybe you're worrying too much."

"Don't I have a reason to?" I prompted.

Rich shrugged. "We haven't been able to catch any of them, and they don't appear to be doing anything wrong. We can't arrest people for roaming the woods at night in robes and chanting. Unless you want us to charge 'em with disturbing the peace."

Al's eyes had widened slightly, and I could tell what he was thinking. The same thing I was. What does 'roaming the woods at night in robes and chanting', bring to mind?

I improvised my answer. "I think it's possible they could be dangerous. Can you afford not to at least consider the possibility?"

"No," Rich agreed. "And we are. but so far, you're the only one who's come forward to report this, and you don't even have a description of any of them to give us. We're sending out extra patrols. What more can we do?"

"I'll try to get you a description." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Al pale at my words.

Officer Rich was nodding. "It would be a help. But be careful around them--just in case you're right."

I saw him to the door and said goodbye, wishing I could postpone being alone with Al. He wasn't going to take well to my plan.

Sure enough, he was waiting for me after Rich left, more animated then he'd been. "So that's what's going on--there's some weird cult or something, doing God knows what in the woods."

"Al," I began tiredly.

"That's why you got shot--and came back to life..." He was looking at me strangely.

He was letting his imagination run away with him, and I had to point it out right away. "Al, that's ridiculous. People don't die and come back to life. It was a hallucination."

He shook his head.

"Okay, ask Ziggy what the odds are of it being a hallucination?"

Grudgingly, he obeyed. "Eighty percent. But the odds are much lower for me actually seeing the same hallucination," he happily related.

"Well, Ziggy's wrong--" I was going to say, about _that_ , but he didn't give me a chance.

"That's right, he's wrong."

"Al..."

"Maybe there's some Voodoo curse on you--"

"Al Calavicci!" I got his attention again. "Good. Now calm down. We're going to remain calm, and get to the bottom of this. Then, I'm going to leap out and you're going to go to McDonald's." Once again, I was trying a touch of humor to lighten up the situation. I half expected--prayed for--a quip from him about preferring Wendy's buns...

"Hallucinations can kill," Al began in a low voice. "If you believe..." He trailed off, sinking down onto the floor again, and wrapped his arms around his stomach. "I don't like this one, Sam. It gives me a creepy feeling..." His voice cracked.

I squatted down beside him, and gestured to his stomach. "that feeling is probably hunger." I tried to grin, but it turned into a grimace.

I'd never seen Al like this. He was completely unable to get the control to handle things as they happened. He was falling apart before my eyes, and the leap was looking to be a tense one. I began to toy with the idea of trying to trick him into leaving the Imaging Chamber, hoping Verbena would keep him away until I completed the leap. I didn't relish the idea of doing it alone, but it was time I stopped being so selfish and dependent. Besides, much as I hated to admit it, I didn't think he was going to be much help on this one. More of a hindrance. Possibly a dangerous one, if only because I'd spend more time worrying about him, than watching out for myself.

For both our sakes, something had to be done.

 

* * *

 

I realized how right I was that night.

I'd poked around the woods behind the house during the afternoon, Al hovering nearby. I didn't find anything useful. There wasn't much to be done before nightfall. I tried to convince Al to go back to the Project, but in light of the recent developments, he was refusing staunchly.

I swallowed down a totally unappetizing TV dinner, and walked into the living room--to see Al munching on a chicken leg.

I stopped in my tracks. "Where--how'd you get that?"

"Tina sneaked it to me," he explained. Even though he hadn't eaten in a while, and that looked like her homemade oatmeal fried chicken, he didn't seem to be enjoying it very much. But at least he was eating.

"How'd you know it wasn't a set up?" I asked.

"I knew," Al said cryptically. "She wouldn't do that to me." He wandered over to the window. "And I keep a jug of spring water in here. See? Now I can stay with you," he explained in an overly reasonable, little boy tone.

I didn't want to know what he was doing about the bathroom part, nor was I going to ask. Seeing him like that was eating away at me. I wanted to scream, beg, plead for him to start acting 'normal' again.

I was about to search the bathroom for something to soothe my churning stomach when I took a good look at him. He was staring out the window at something, and trying to pretend he wasn't.

Instead of going into the other room, I detoured quietly to stand next to him. I could see torches through the trees, and dark shapes of figures clustered among them. It looked spooky all right.

Beside me, Al shivered, and dropped the remains of his chicken.

"It could be nothing," I said softly. "There are people who worship like that. It doesn't necessarily mean they're evil."

"Then why are you here?" he asked. "And why did that weird shit happen when you leaped in?"

I had no answer for him. "I'll tell you what," I began, grabbing a jacket off the back of the chair. "Why don't we snoop around out there and--"

Al didn't let me finish. A look of terror descended on his features. "NO!"

I put out my hands in a placating gesture. "Al, we need to know what's going on. I won't announce myself, I'll just spy on them. Find out what they're up to." I had to admit, my curiosity was growing. I could feel the adrenaline, was anxious to get out there and investigate.

 

Al's panic only increased. "You can't. Ziggy--he says it isn't a good idea to go out there tonight." It was such a pathetic lie--he hadn't even so much as glanced at the link.

"I'm not going to complete the leap by hiding out in the house," I tried to reason with him. "I'll be real careful, I promise."

"Can you promise me you won't get hurt? _Can you_?" he dared me.

We both knew the answer to that. I sighed. "Nothing is going to happen this time. I have you to watch my back."

"Please don't go out there tonight..."

"Maybe I can even solve this thing now. Then we can both get some rest." _And you can go and get the help you so badly need._ I tried a slow move towards the front door, hoping he'd give in and follow. That's what he always did before.

"I'm not going with you, " he warned. "I won't watch--"

I found myself wishing he would carry out his threat and let me go alone. I hated myself for thinking all those things about the person who'd always been my guardian angel. And I hated him for causing me to. Guilt came next, like a vicious, never ending circle. And I was tired of it. It had to end, now.

"I'm going to be all right, Al. I'll prove it to you." Maybe if I went out and he saw that nothing bad happened, it would ease his paranoia some--enough to get us through the leap. There were times when I had to go into a situation, even though the guy I leaped into had died doing the very same thing. It was a part of leaping, and we couldn't afford for Al to be reacting this way. Thinking about those implications terrified me. Knowing I might lose Al...

"If you care anything about me, you'd stay here."

Al was desperate, hitting below the belt proved that. My heart warred with my common sense as I continued to the door.

"If anything happens to you, it'll kill me," he whispered, in a voice raw with pain.

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. Stealing a sideways look showed me a figure huddled on the floor, in a shaking ball of misery. I blinked my eyes several times, and took a deep breath to brace myself. Then I let go of the knob with slow deliberation, and made my way back over to him. I took off the jacket again, flinging it towards a chair.

"We have to talk," I said quietly, sitting down on the floor in front of him. It was definitely time for a heart-to-heart.

Al nodded but didn't look at me.

"We're never going to solve the leap this way," I told him as gently as I could.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "Maybe I should just leave and get out of your way." His voice lowered so much, I had to strain to make out his next words. "The problem is, I can't." His eyes finally met mine, begging for understanding.

I didn't know what else to say. I wanted to take him into my arms, and bawl my eyes out, with him. "Oh, Al..."

He rubbed at his forehead, movements jerky and vague. "I know this is crazy," he began, loud and agitated again. "But I can't _stop_ it!"

"I know."

"I don't know what to do!"

"Maybe it would help if we talked about it." I didn't want to, any more than he did.

"Talk about it?! About what? When I came in and saw you lying there, I--" he broke off, tears running down his face. "God, I can't lose you!" He buried his face in his hands, sobbing.

Answering tears of my own trickled down my cheeks. "I know, Al..." I knew all of it, even what he wasn't saying. "I love you, too," I whispered with as much meaning as I could give it.

He raised his tear-stained face, pinning me with an intense gaze. I couldn't look away.

We stayed like that for awhile, then he finally broke the silence. "I'll go away in the morning," he said, glancing toward the window. "Just give me tonight."

How I wished I could; make love to him all night long, until he was crying from pleasure instead of pain. (Like...once before. I finally remembered that night, so long denied existence. I wondered if he recalled it as well, but couldn't ask. Not now.) There was nothing left to be said. We were separated by an uncross-able chasm, called time. The words I wanted to say would only cause more pain.

We might have had the leap finished that evening. Instead, we watched TV silently, well into the night. He mostly watched me, occasionally wandering over to the window. I pretended not to notice.

Not once did we discuss what the words I _love you_ really meant.

 

* * *

 

I, Al Calavicci, being of unsound mind and body...was falling apart at the seams. I could feel it, bits and pieces of me crumbling to the ground. I tried tape, staples, even glue, but couldn't make those pieces stay together. It was time to admit defeat and let someone else at me with the soldering iron.

All the king's horses...but there were no kings here. Just a prince, sleeping peacefully as I kept guard over him. I'd have plenty of time to rest in the morning, when I went back and surrendered to 'general Beeks'. An admiral holding out the white flag to a general. Something wrong there. She'd probably give me something to make me sleep. I hoped she did, that I would sleep for weeks. Until I awoke, and someone told me whether I still had a reason to live or not.

I finally accepted it, gaining a small measure of calm from the knowledge. I couldn't stop Sam from taking those chances with his life, it was a part of leaping we couldn't avoid. So if anything happened to him--after I made absolutely sure he was gone, exhausting every possibility including the Accelerator--if all else failed, I would end my own torment and sleep peacefully. Forever.

Until then, I hoped Beeks could put me back together, enough to be of some use to Sam again. She had to. He needed me.

He once told me he couldn't make it without me. Well, without him, I didn't even want to try.

He looked like an innocent little boy while he was sleeping. I wondered what dreams kept him company, hoped they were sunny ones. Not like the dark kind I had to live with these days, even awake. God, I didn't know you could need someone so much!

There was a memory with a new home tonight. I'd finally moved it, from the place in my heart reserved for things that scare me, to the place where special moments live. It was the night we got word that we had the funding for Project Quantum Leap. An evening of joyous celebration. I don't know how many bottles of champagne we put away between us. All I knew was flying high on the promise of a future I'd almost given up on--had given up on before Sam came along.

_Some future..._

But I regress. The world was ours that night. Nothing we couldn't do. Sam's face glowed with happiness. Every time our eyes would meet in acknowledgment of the news, he'd hug me.

I don't know how it happened, maybe a combination of the booze, our mood, and the only vacancy at the hotel being a single. We made love that night, and I could only remember it as a warm blur amid the liquor haze.

The next morning I didn't know what to say. So I didn't say anything, wondering if Sam would. He didn't either. I figured it was a one time deal, just one of those things that happens sometimes. I was scared too, big time. And guilty. At least I think I was. But then, it wasn't really me, was it? We weren't there. Sort of. Maybe that's why it was a blur. Just a phantom memory form a time that could have been.

The Project, his life, our friendship...there was just too much riding on not rocking the boat. Besides, I'd never desired another man in my whole life...and I wasn't sure anything had changed. Like I said, I was drunk. I certainly wasn't going to even consider having--an affair--with my male partner. The whole idea gave me the creepy crawlies. So I forgot about it.

Until Sam's leaps started getting more dangerous. Until I had to watch him almost get taken away from me over and over. Until the years kept going by, and he still didn't leap home.

Then I found out he was bisexual.

What was I supposed to say to that? Feel? I tried to hint around, see if he remembered our night. But he was still Swiss-cheesed on that one. It stung a little, knowing I wasn't his first--he was mine. Knowing there might be more, and wondering if he was just horny that night. I knew he loved me as a friend. But if you combined love with sex, what did you get? I always thought that's what being 'in love' was. But then, I didn't have a very good track record in those things.

I was bizarre after that. It would hit me with wisps of something at the oddest times. The feel of a kiss, feather light; the touch of

those beautiful hands...

I'd decided it was just stress related--until I saw him lying there in a pool of blood. When my world came crashing down around me, and the life in my eyes went out with his...

Now, here we were. Like actors in a bad play, trying to make it believable because we couldn't bear to really talk to each other. Not now. Maybe never.

I cut off the mournful thoughts abruptly. Plenty of time for thinking...later. Then I decided on two weeks sleep. In the morning.

 

* * *

 

The ringing of the phone woke me. I fumbled for it with a groan, glancing at Al. The sight of him brought me wide-wake. I could tell he hadn't slept all night. I looked at the clock as I mumbled a hello into the mouth piece. It was almost noon. I glared at Al meaningfully.

The voice on the other end of the receiver was female, pleasant sounding. The kind of voice you enjoy listening to. "Hello Kean, it's Mary."

"Hi, Mary."

"I woke you, didn't I?" she guessed with accuracy. "I'm sorry. I heard about what happened to you the other night. Are you all right?"

I wondered how; guessed news traveled fast in Newport. "Yes, I'm fine, now."

"For the moment. Were they out last night?"

I had a feeling she was talking about the robes. "Yes."

"It's a good thing you stayed away. You might not be so lucky next time. This type of power usually increases in intensity."

I sat up with interest. This woman knew more than I did about what was going on. "This type of power?" I prompted, hoping I didn't sound more ignorant than I should have been.

"Psychic attack usually works that way. In light of this, it's a good thing you contacted us. We'll push things up to tonight, instead of tomorrow night. If we act now, we can help you before it's too late. We'll see you at eight."

"Uh--okay. Bye." Stunned, I stared at the receiver until I heard the dial tone. Then I hung up and stared at Al.

"What was that all about?" he asked warily. His hands, empty of their usual cigar, fidgeted.

"Murphy contacted another group to help him against the people in the woods. She said what happened was a psychic attack."

That nervous look was back in his eyes, but then Al always did react this way to anything remotely supernatural. "Does she know how to stop them?" he asked.

"I'm supposed to go see her tonight."

"It could be a trick to get you into their clutches, and--"

"Al--if they could make Murphy think he was dying of gunshot wounds, they wouldn't need to get that close to do him in, would they?" I used his own logic against him.

"I still think you oughta be careful," he persisted.

I sighed. "Yes, you know I will." It was getting redundant. I got out of bed and began dressing. "When are you leaving?" I tried to ask casually.

"Uh--later..." he said vaguely.

"Later?" I knew what that meant.

"Sure."

"Al--"

He abruptly popped out, and no amount of yelling could bring him back. Not that he'd gone back, no way. He was avoiding me.

 

* * *

 

When Al wasn't back by early evening, I began to wonder if he'd returned to the Project after all. It hardly seemed likely, but maybe Verbena had gotten him out. Sooner or later, they'd find a way to override whatever monkey wrench he'd put into things. I had mixed feeling about that. It seemed even in the way, I preferred Al's company to his absence. I hoped he was okay; wondered when I'd find out.

Al showed up again at six-thirty, while I was prowling through Murphy's address book, trying to figure out were this Mary person lived.

"Al! Did you go back to the Project?"

He was playing with the handlink attentively. "Huh? Oh, no. I was checking your friend out. Her name is Mary Preston. The town thinks she's weird, keeps to herself mostly. There's talk that she's some kind of a witch, but they never proved anything." He abandoned the link and looked up at me. "She is. I spent some time watching her. I think she's on the up and up."

I studied him. "This is why I'm here--to get help from a bunch of good witches against a bunch of bad witches?" I asked skeptically. It sounded like something out of a horror novel.

"They're Satanists. They're not witches."

"Did you visit them too?" I asked in a hushed tone.

Al shook his head. "Couldn't track 'em down. Do you remember stories of those islands, where if a Voodoo priest put a curse on someone he'd die, just because he really believed he would?"

I nodded. "It's possible, I'll grant you that. The power of suggestion can be a strong thing. But if it's true, then I don't have anything to worry about, because I don't believe in it."

I recalled what Ziggy had said about my possible fate. At the time I took it as proof that nothing weird was going on. Now, I wondered if maybe when other methods failed on me, they'd try a more mundane way. Like chopping me into little pieces with an ax.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't go to Mary's. You might find out more about what's going on." Al was being reasonable. That was scary.

"Don't worry, I am going." I sat down on the couch and began to prepare Al for what lay ahead. "You know, usually those Voodoo priests used drugs to help the process along."

"The hospital didn't find any drugs."

"It was me, not Murphy they tested," I pointed out.

"Then why did you think you were shot?" Al countered.

"Maybe I was carried over into the influence. You know as well as I do, if the trauma is intense enough, it sometimes gets passed on to me. Al, there are certain herbs which create drastic effects when taken, that's what most of the so-called witches used to make it seem like they were performing magic. The doctors wouldn't have tested for something like that."

"Well, if you ask me, anybody that can get a hologram drugged and hallucinating, is performing magic."

He had a point there. I did have an explanation for that too, but none I dared tell him. There was a possibility what I experienced and what Al saw were unrelated, just coincidence. But it would mean he just...snapped, with no provocation.

That thought was even more frightening than the satanists.

 

END PART ONE

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Knowledge of the episode, "The Boogieman" might be helpful to really 'get' this part.

 

We showed up at Mary's early, hoping to gain a little information first. I'd actually begun to encourage Al to believe in them. Maybe if I got them to do some sort of protection thing for me, he'd relax and leave the Imaging Chamber. I didn't know if Tina had been able to smuggle him any more food, but didn't think so. He was looking worse, pale and unsteady.

Before ringing the bell, I peeked through the thin veil of curtains that hung on the door. I could see a woman sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, cross-legged. It looked like she was meditating. I waited for a few minutes, but when she didn't move, I rang the doorbell anyway.

Mary came and opened the door. "Hello, Kean, I was just preparing for the ritual. Come in."

"Ritual?" Al asked nervously, as we followed her into the room.

She turned to face me and for a moment, her eyes widened. "If you'll pardon me for saying so, you looked--different, for just a second."

I shared a glance with Al. "Maybe it's the light," I tried.

"More likely it's the presence I feel in the room." Mary walked a circle around me in concentration. "I can't tell if it's good or evil..."

"Hey!" Al exclaimed, insulted.

"It is...wavering. A spirit crying out."

"Uh, let's sit down and talk," I suggested, taking her elbow and heading towards the couch. So far, she sure had Al's number.

"How do you explain _this_ scientifically?" Al asked me quietly.

I was ready for him this time. I answered him by speaking to Mary. "When I arrived, you were meditating, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Which is usually done in an _alpha state_." I emphasized that last word for Al's benefit.

"Which in turn makes one more susceptible to the other realms, yes," she finished.

"Do you do your ritual in alpha too?" I asked.

"Of course. The mind is more receptive to raising the power that way."

"Oh boy." It meant I couldn't go through with the ritual. If they achieved a pure alpha state, they would not only be able to see Al, but me as myself.

"What is it?" she asked. "You seem distressed."

"There are going to be strange things happening tonight," I began. I had to go through with it, and not just to gain information about the Satanists. I had to do it for Al's sake. I was sure it would be for the best. "I-I'm not Kean Murphy."

"What are you doing, Sam?" Al asked, but without the anger he usually displayed whenever I revealed too much to someone. He seemed unnerved, but willing to play it my way.

"What are you talking about, Kean?"

I took a deep breath and dove in. "I can't tell you much, except to say I'm here to help Murphy. I have a--sort of spirit guide with me, that's the presence you feel."

"Are you some sort of shape shifter?" Mary asked.

"You could say that, I guess. I'm--borrowing Kean's aura."

"That doesn't make much sense to me, but I have a feeling it'll have to do for now." She gazed at me questioningly.

"Trust me," I implored.

She continued studying me for a time, then seemed to reach her decision. "I will accept what you have told me for now. During the ritual, all truth will be revealed. If you are lying, it is only you who will be sorry."

Al shivered, and gazed at her suspiciously.

With the warning out of the way, Mary's disposition went back to its former sunny warmth. "Come, we'll have some tea."

I followed my host onto the front porch, and sat down in the chair she offered. "Do you know anything about the people in the woods?" I asked as she poured. Al stood beside me, visibly ill at ease. He was too quiet.

"Only what you--Kean told me. He noticed them last month and suspected devil worship, so he called the police. He found out he was right when they didn't take well to his meddling." Her face twisted in sorrow. "They killed a raccoon, and left it on his doorstep as a warning. Thank Goddess he has no pets. After that, various unexplained things began happening. He swore someone was watching him sleep at night, started having terrible nightmares."

"Do you think it's possible it's just psychological harassment on a vulnerable and impressionable man?"

"We make our own realities. But if you believe that, why are you here? What use would you have for our protection?"

I glanced at Al, then smiled at her. "It can't hurt."

Al gaped at me. "Are you actually starting to believe in this?"

"Maybe," I said.

Mary regarded me thoughtfully. "What's his name?" she asked.

"Al. Mine's Sam."

Mary nodded. "There is much pain and regret here, which is not Kean's. It's weakness like this they can use."

Her meaning was all too clear. Unfortunately, Al didn't miss it. I saw his face freeze for a moment. Then he brought out the handlink.

I jumped up from my chair. "Al--don't go yet!" I turned to her frantically. "Forget Kean, he's safe. Can you help us?"

"It is good that you told the truth. Something done for Kean would be of no use to you." She touched my hand, her gaze turned toward Al, although she couldn't see him. "A bond which transcends time can transcend space, for they are one and the same. I said there was a lot of pain, but the love is stronger. It is their worst enemy, and your best protection. If I were you, I'd stay for the ritual. It should prove to be very...interesting, if nothing else." She gave us a strange smile.

I looked at Al pleadingly.

"Okay," he said, putting away the link. "I guess it would be all right to stay for the ritual."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't know why, but the feeling that Al should stay was overpowering. I couldn't let him go.

Headlights accompanied by the sound of cars pulling up outside interrupted us.

"That would be the others arriving," Mary announced. "Come, let us begin."

 

* * *

 

I was shown to what looked like a guest room, and given a robe to put on. Mary had recommended wearing nothing under the light, black cotton robe, and I figured it best to play by their rules. Grudgingly, I began to undress.

While I changed, Al paced. "This is kinda creepy, but not exactly in a bad way."

"It shouldn't be, they want to help." I regarded him thoughtfully. "Are you going to be okay about this?"

Al nodded. He looked under control at the moment, but I knew that didn't mean much. He was nervous--then so was I. "I guess you think I"m pretty silly, getting worked up over this mumbo-jumbo."

"Not necessarily," I told Al. "I was wrong. As a scientist, I should be approaching everything with an open mind."

"You look good in black," he said, and smiled at me.

Startled at the unexpected comment, I almost dropped the clothing I was folding. I felt my cheeks heat up.

"You're also lying,” he added.

I stared at him, nonplussed. "Talk about magic--you can always read my mind, even before _I_ know what I'm thinking."

Our eyes met and held. "I never said we couldn't make magic," Al said quietly. "You're the skeptical one."

"Skeptical doesn't mean I can't be convinced," I countered. "Convince me," I said softly.

"Maybe we will."

And maybe there really was something to all this stuff. I felt a kind of tingling, as if there was power humming around us.

"I wish I had a robe to put on, too," Al complained. "I'm gonna feel overdressed."

I smiled at him brightly. "You could go sky-clad," I suggested wickedly. A word I'd learned from Mary, meaning naked.

He threw me a glare.

"Well, they can't see you," I said, putting just a slight emphasis on the word 'they'. His look defied defining, but even if the others were his only consideration, he'd never fall for it. We both knew that once in the alpha state, they would indeed see him. "Some other time."

"Promise?" I asked boldly, throwing protocol to the wind.

Al's mouth opened, but nothing came out. Hell, the way we'd been flirting with each other, you'd think he'd come up with a fast comeback.

We were interrupted--or saved--by the bell. Literally. A soft chime sounded through the open window.

"I think that's our cue," he told me. "I'll meet you downstairs."

I almost yelled 'chicken' to his vanishing form.

 

* * *

 

It was a beautiful night, clear with just a touch of cool breeze. In the darkness, the stars and nearly full moon bathed everything in an unearthly silver glow. I could almost believe in anything, on a night like this one. I took a deep breath of the honeysuckle-scented air, and looked around. Mary's backyard was large, framed on three sides by the woods. Oak trees surrounded the empty area like a cocoon. It was a perfect place for mysterious rituals.

I glanced at Al, who stood beside me. I could feel his nervousness. "Ready?" I asked.

He took a deep breath and nodded. Together, we walked forward to meet the others.

An altar of wood was set up, facing North. On it were placed candles, incense, bowls, and other items which I didn't recognize, in some pattern whose meaning I'd never learned. The mood was solemn, but not downbeat. I suddenly felt sad that I'd made fun of them at all, remembering having read somewhere how nine million women were killed, during the European witch hunts. This was their religion, and I had no right to pass judgment, especially after having fought so hard to preserve human rights during my leaping.

Memories of Eastern beliefs flood my mind, making me further ashamed of myself. Like a flood gate opening, forgotten knowledge filled my mind. This was not something unknown to me in my pre-swiss cheese days. Between quantum physics, martial arts, and six other degrees-- including an avid interest in ancient Egypt, I'd been no stranger to the aspects of nature religions. I was a voracious learner, and...

I looked with new respect on the Athame in its place of prominence on the altar, the bowls of water and salt for purifying. I'd never actually seen any magic at work, but maybe I would tonight.

A glance at Al confirmed he was already carried away by our surroundings. A moment of doubt ran through my mind, and I prayed I hadn't made a serious mistake in thinking he was stable enough to deal with this. It wouldn't take much to push him over the edge.

"I'm okay," he whispered.

Once again, he was reading my mind as if inside of me. And I guess he was, in a way. It was a comforting thought. "The pentagram represents the five points of the human body," I told him. 'It's a symbol of the Earth, and man."

"Like Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man," Al noted with some surprise. That was our unofficial logo for Quantum Leap. "Sounds harmless."

"It is. Only Satanists turn it upside down, just like they do with crosses, to turn it into something evil.

Mary beckoned us, and we joined the group. She introduced everyone by name.

"Sisters, we have guests tonight. They have come for our help, much like Kean wanted." She gestured to me. 'This is Sam. He may look like Kean to you now, but do not be alarmed if there is a change once we're underway. His guide is Al. When we are between worlds, all truth will be revealed.

"It is time to begin."

As Mary stepped to the altar and picked up the knife, I could sense Al move closer to me, letting his nearness speak. I gave him a quick, reassuring nod. 

Mary traced the sign of the pentagram in the air with the Athame as she spoke. "Hail, guardians of the Watchtowers of the East, powers of air. We invoke you, golden sea gull of the dawn, rising sun. By the air that is Her breath, send forth our light. We welcome you!

The beautiful words conjured up ancient images. Like the pyramids that always fascinated me, worship similar to theirs has been around for centuries. Fear and ignorance destroyed much of this heritage, but it was humbling to realized that hundreds of years ago, in a clearing somewhere much like this one, similar words may have been spoken. Indeed, with a time traveler's grasp of time, it is actually now.

Far from being supernatural and unlike the myths of ancient Greece, these beliefs were based on nature. A power I couldn't deny; in the water and fire which ran our inventions, to the atom itself. All the particles of matter close to a physicist's heart are made up of nature. Everything. Power, energy, life.

A second woman, Marcy, was holding the bowl. She sprinkled some of the salt water outward with a sprig of rue. "With salt and water, I purify the East!"

Joan drew the symbol of the pentagram in the air with a censer of incense. "With fire and air, I charge the East!"

And so it went, for South, West, North--until they were back at the beginning. Already the air felt charged. I flowed into it, allowing myself to be swept up with the atmosphere. It had been a long time since I'd done any meditation, not since my martial arts classes, but I found it was easy to relax.

I only wished Al could. He stood rock still beside me. I wished I could reach out to him, get him to release his pain and distress. Well, our brain waves were in tune--and now would be a perfect time to do an experiment. I tried to send him a telepathic message of peacefulness. In my mind, I envisioned my hand reaching out to clasp his, mentally felt my fingers closing around him and squeezing reassuringly. I concentrated only on Al.

"This reminds me of when the sisters dragged us to Mass," Al said in a whisper. "I didn't understand a word of it, but it moved me, y'know?"

Mary touched the tip of the Athame to the cauldron in the center of the altar. "The circle is cast. We are between worlds, beyond the bounds of time."

Marcy spoke next. "This is a time that is not a time, in a place that is not a place, on a day that is not a day. We stand at the threshold, may the ancient ones protect us on our journey."

Mary lit the remaining candles, finishing with the center one. "The fire is lit, the ritual is begun, in perfect love and trust."

Mary kissed the woman next to her on the cheek, and the kiss was passed along the circle, until it got to me. Going with the flow without thinking, I turned to the person next to me and passed on the kiss. Only as soon as I did, I realized who that person next to me was...

_Al._

He was staring at me, as if trying to decide if he'd gone completely off the edge. I gawked at him in shock, eyes traveling down to where our hands were entwined. Solid flesh, not just in my mind.

I reached out my arms--and caught him as he fainted.

For a moment, all I could do was cradle him in my arms. I finally overcame my paralysis and lowered him gently to the ground, kneeling beside him.

Mary came over, bringing a cold, wet cloth.

I took it gratefully, dabbing his face and forehead. "Al? Come on, Al, wake up."

Lashes fluttered, then he was staring up at me. "What's going on here?" he whispered in a shaky voice.

Mary knelt down next to us. "We didn't expect it to happen so quickly...or in quite this way. You obviously have much power within yourselves."

"Are you okay?" I asked Al. "How do you feel?" Concern for him overrode my own shock at the situation.

He transferred his gaze to the arms holding him--my arms, and for a second I was sure he was going to pass out again.

"It's okay," I crooned, wiping his face with the cloth tenderly.

Seeing Al's distress, Mary placed a hand over his. "In the circle, all time is now."

"Therefore, we're both in the same time," I managed to whisper. In my exuberance, I had the urge to hug and kiss everyone there--if I could have brought myself to let go of Al, I might have. It was the greatest gift anyone could have given me.

 Al scrambled to his feet, as if wanting to make sure he could. I steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. We stared at each other for an endless moment, then I wrapped my arms around him tightly.

"I can't believe...I'm touching you again. I thought I'd never..." Al murmured in a watery voice.

I rubbed his quaking back, my own tears threatening. "We're gonna flood everybody out," I whispered into his ear. I could feel the tension in him, the desperation that didn't know how it wanted to be released, just that it needed to be. It was in me too, and growing.

I pulled him down onto the grass with me, keeping my arm around him. The atmosphere between us was too...volatile, we needed a breather. Besides, I was starting to feel guilty about holding up the ritual.

Mary followed my unspoken lead and they continued. There were words spoken, a chant was started. I listened with part of my mind, the other being on the man next to me.

He'd finally calmed down enough to sit quietly, absorbing what was going on around us. I knew then that he fully believed in these women.

Did I? Have a choice, that is.

After they were through with 'raising the power' as Mary had explained, the atmosphere was less formal and reverent. They took small cloth bags, and began filling them with an assortment of herbs. Hushed voices murmured.

"I guess you believe in magic now," Al said, a trifle smugly, I thought.

I smiled. "How about you? Gonna be ready to face the world after this?"

He gazed at me, eyes dark pools in the moonlight. "I feel pretty magical, tonight."

"Me, too," I whispered, losing myself in those eyes. "But I think it's more because of you, then them."

He smiled, one of those rare special ones, and I had to close my eyes. The arm around me rose, fingers climbing until they rested at my neck. And I felt another kind of energy. My nerve-endings seemed extra sensitive to touch, no matter how light. His touch.

"Al..." I breathed.

"Don't say a word," he warned. "No words tonight, we'll have plenty of time for them, after." His finger ran down the hollow under my ear, making me shiver.

I agreed with him. Except...I didn't know how much of this I could take.

I got a reprieve when Mary came over to us, carrying the bags they'd made. There were strings attached to them, and Al watched with interest as she put one over his head. He took the bag in his hand.

"These will help protect you," she explained. Instead of putting the other one on me, she handed it to Al.

I had to admit, she was a very intuitive woman. It was important to Al, to be the one who put it on me himself. He lowered it over my head solemnly.

I smiled a thanks to Mary.

"You're time travelers, aren't you?" she asked.

We glanced at each other, then stared at her in amazement.

"How'd you know?" I asked.

Mary took one of Al's hands and squeezed it. "We can sometimes see spirits who have died, feel their presence--but we don't usually touch them. I figured Al had to be alive in the present."

 Joan came by with a plate of small cakes. Mary took it from her with a nod. "This is the part where we socialize a bit, share the cakes and wine."

I looked at the plate, at Al, then at Mary. "Do you think he can -"

"There's only one way to find out, isn't there?" she said, handing one of the cakes to Al.

He took it and bit in tentatively, while I watched with baited breath. "These are good, are they homemade?" he asked.

She nodded with a smile. "Thank you."

I took one of them, and accepted a chalice of wine. I glanced at Al. "Do you have anything non-alcoholic? He hasn't eaten in days."

"Of course." She provided a glass of apple juice for him.

"Spoil-sport," Al complained around a mouthful of cake.

"You don't want to pass out again, do you?" I asked.

Mary joined the others in quiet conversation, leaving Al and I to ourselves. No one paid us any mind at all. Except food, not me, was taking up all his attention at the moment. Not that I minded, the lead weight I'd been carrying around since I leaped in was lifting more and more all the time.

Al finished the first cake and reached for a second. I grabbed it before he could. He looked at me questioningly. Smiling, I broke off a piece and offered it.

"You eat too fast," I whispered. His lips just barely touched my fingers as I pushed the cake into his mouth. I fed him another piece, trying to control my hand from shaking. It was crazy---I felt like I'd never been in love before in my life.

When I reached over with the third piece, he grabbed my wrist and held it. "I"m tired of chasing 'em around, I feel like I'm bobbing for apples or something."

Hit with that devastating grin, I forgot to be embarrassed by his teasing.

There was frosting left on my fingers when he was done, and I didn't breath as he licked it off. "Delicious."

 _Me or the cake?_ The question popped into my mind before I could stop it, but I didn't say a word out loud.

He smiled. "Both."

I hissed in a breath of surprise. "Why can't I do that?"

"What?" he kept the hand, twining his fingers with mine un-selfconsciously.

"Read your mind like that."

"That's a scary thought," Al admitted, then answered seriously. "I guard myself more than you do, for one thing. It's necessary."

 _Bull_. "I want to," I insisted.

"And it takes a mind focused on only one thing. You're getting damn good at it again though, don't worry. I can't pull nearly as much over on you as I used to. But the more going on with the leap that has your attention, the easier it is for me."

"I think I"m more predictable than you are," I admitted grudgingly.

"That, too. I'm just full of surprises." His eyes twinkled mischievously.

"I love surprises," _I love you._

"Me too."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement. Mary was making her way over to us. At that point I didn't care if we were holding hands in public, but I didn't think she did either. 'An harm none, do what ye will' was the closest they got to a commandment. Kind of covered it all, though.

"You two would probably appreciate some time before we open the circle," Mary told us. "So we're going to leave for awhile. We'll cut a doorway out of the circle, closing it after us. Watch. When you're ready, come out the same way and get us. We'll be in the house."

Relief washed over me. I needed time alone with Al desperately, but I hadn't known how to bring up the subject tactfully. Again, Mary had made things easier for us without having to be asked.

"Thank you," we both answered.

 

* * *

 

Now that we were alone, I didn't know where to begin. "Al, I _remember_ \--"

He silenced me with fingers on my lips. "Remember what I said? No words."

The warmth was spreading through my body again, and breathing was becoming difficult. I kissed the fingers at my mouth. One traced the outline of my lips. I parted them in invitation, wetting the digit with my tongue. It returned to rub my lower lip.

Suddenly I had to have more than just his finger against my lips. I locked eyes with him, and we both leaned forward slowly. We spent one last moment gazing into each others eyes, then shut them on a silent cue, leaning the rest of the way into the kiss.

Our lips met lightly at first, then with more intensity. It wasn't a kiss, it was a cares. And I couldn't believe how badly I was shaking. He sighed when we parted, and I felt it in my soul.

"You feel good," Al told me in a ragged voice.

I knew then what I had to do--as if it wasn't exactly what I wanted. I had to show him I was alive, real. Replace all the pain and fear he'd been feeling with love. I reached out my hands and began unbuttoning his shirt, encouraged by the tent of his baggy pants.

His hands reached inside my robe, rubbing my chest lovingly. They boldly moved lower, to toy with the belt.

"No fair," I complained breathlessly. "I've got a head start on you."

His answer was to pull off the belt. The robe fell open. I had his shirt off by then, and retaliated by removing his belt and opening his pants. All I could think of was my overwhelming desire to get his clothes off as fast as possible.

He gently pushed my touch away, and slid both the pants and underwear down and off. The he slipped the robe from my shoulders. The cooling air hit my hot flesh, sending goose bumps down my skin. He rubbed it, but that just increased them.

"I guess you figured out by now, how I love you," he said.

The goose bumps jumped tenfold. "Guess you figured out by now..." I responded.

Al lunged at me without warning, taking my mouth in a fierce, desperate kiss, letting all the emotions loose. I gave in to my own passions, and for an indeterminate amount of time we attacked each other feverishly. I felt the last of the tension in the body flow into the ground harmlessly, pushed out by my loving attention.

This night was one of a kind, a special moment out of time for us alone. It deserved a proper gesture. I knew exactly how to do that. I had to seal our bond, and give him my strength to see him through whatever lay ahead. He'd always been there for me, knowing what I needed without being told. It was my turn.

"It's okay, Al, I'm here," I murmured into his mouth. "I'm yours."

He shivered at my words, while his teeth were busy nibbling at my ear. "Oh Sam," he purred.

I didn't know how wonderful it would be to hear him use that silky, seductive tone on me. His was was low, as intimate as a caress.

"I need you to make me feel complete." I pulled him on top of me, thrusting up to meed his hardness. "Want you inside me, Al."

"What about--"

I silenced him with my mouth. "Don't worry," I told him when I let him go temporarily. Getting to my knees, I crawled to the altar. I'd remembered seeing some oil there. I grabbed the bottle and rejoined my soon to be, forever, lover.

I couldn't help grinning when I saw the label.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Initiation oil," I answered, grin widening.

He looked me over carefully. "You mean you never--" he trailed off. What passed between us didn't 'need words.

_Yes, I knew you were bisexual._

_No, I've never done--this._

"Why?" Al breathed.

I shrugged. "I was always...more comfortable being the dominant one." I leaned over, kissing him to forestall any comments or protests. Giving myself to him seemed the most natural thing in the world. "I want you, Al," I said simply when the kiss was finished, trusting in our unique communication.

He took a deep, unsteady breath, watching as I began anointing his cock with the oil, massaging. When I was through, I lay down on my stomach.

He ran a finger down my spine until his hand rested on my ass. I shivered in anticipation.

Then he leaned over and whispered into my ear, taking the opportunity to kiss it while he was there. "It is okay if we try another position?"

I didn't know if it was a good idea, being my first time, but I understood his request. It would feel too much like taking advantage of a helpless victim for him this way. He needed to know it was what I wanted, needed to see my face. I flipped over.

"It'll be okay," he promised, kissing down my chest until he reached my navel. He ran his tongue over it, and I almost jumped. Hands that seemed to find places I didn't know existed, roamed my overheated flesh. I was beginning to realize I may have underestimated him. He might be inexperienced with men, but Al Calavicci was by no means a novice at sex. I had a feeling he could even teach me a thing or two.

I couldn't wait to take lessons.

Al knelt on the ground with his knees under him, and slid my legs up onto his lap. I waited, suspended between emptiness and fulfillment.

He ran his hands down my thighs. "You're so beautiful," he crooned. "I'm going to make you feel so good..." His words alone were almost enough to make me come.

His hand paid lavish attention to my cock, driving me to distraction. When he had me where he wanted me, I felt him entering. It was tight, but I didn't think a little pain was going to be any problem. In fact, I had to keep myself from thrusting up in an insane urge to have it all, right away.

I stared up at the final frontier, feeling a kinship. The stars twinkled brightly. I smelled the earth and grass under me, feeling a part of nature as I never had before. He began a slow, exquisitely torturous pumping in and out, still not sliding all the way home.

He kept up his maddening pace, waiting until I was ready before taking each inch. Moans were forced out of my throat in time with the thrusts. I wanted to pull him into me, but he held me pinned, under his skillful control.

Panting turned into gasps, and moans now cries--until I thought I could take no more. Then he finally plunged into me completely, and I was hurled into the center of the stars above with a strangled cry.

"Oh god..." I managed under my breath, whimpering. I tried to control my breathing, soon giving it up as a lost cause. His hands were gripping my ass, kneading possessively.

I knew why he was such a hit with the women. He rode me like an expert, owning me, until I felt like my soul and all reason had been ripped from me. Until I knew you could die of pleasure. I whimpered, I cried, I begged, as he pounded the breath out of me.

Before I had a chance to get used to the holocaust, I was arching up, screaming silently with release.

It wasn't over yet. As I gasped for breath, his thrusting became more frantic. It was still an indescribable sensation; I loved the feel of him inside me.

Then he froze for a moment. I heard a sound like a fierce muffled whimper, signaling his orgasm. Like the calm after a storm, the world was quite again.

There was a weak, quivery feeling in the pit of my stomach. Sort of tender and overwhelmed. I got my arms around him, pulled him down, and kissed his neck. I trapped his waist with my legs to keep him inside of me, just a little while longer.

"God, Sam..." he gave me a sloppy, shaky kiss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave it back, with interest. We stayed like that for awhile, just basking in the intimacy. I couldn't ever remember feeling so good, and I didn't think it was due to a swiss cheesed memory.

Finally, Al slipped out of me and rolled to his side. "I like this hallucination," he decided.

I giggled. "Me, too."

He cupped my face, gently. "You're okay?"

I smiled the sappiest smile I'd ever. I could feel it. "Nobody has ever made me feel as perfect as you." His lip was red where he'd bitten it, even in the faint light from the candles and moon. If he hadn't stifled the sound, I had a feeling they would have heard him all the way back at the Project, not to mention in the house a few yards away. I kissed the spot delicately, then licked it.

Al gave a heartfelt sigh, and laid his head on my chest. I traced an idle pattern on his back and the side of his face, and we rested in our cocoon.

As our bodies cooled, he shivered slightly. It reminded me where we were. It was part of my duty was the strong one this time around. I had to be the one to bring us gently back to reality.

"Al?" I questioned softly.

"I know."

I winced inside at the resignation in his voice. "Maybe we can--try this again sometime?"

He raised his head to look at me, and we both got a small kick out of the sleazy way my innocent line had sounded.

"I mean...if it happened once...." I clarified.

He claimed my lips, giving me a kiss full of promise. When he pulled back, there were tears in both our eyes. He got to his feet quickly, grabbing his clothes, and started dressing. His abruptness hurt, even though I knew it had to be done.

"I gotta do this now," he explained. "If I wait another minute--I'll never let you go."

_If only..._

There was no more talking. I slipped on my robe, and followed Mary's instruction for cutting a doorway out of the circle. With one last look at Al, I headed for the house.

If I seemed subdued, they didn't mention it. We walked back together, and re-entered the circle. The knowledge of what we had to do gave a bittersweet tang to my joy, but somehow I found the strength to bear it, for Al. My hand found his as the women finished their business. It didn't take nearly long enough. Before I knew it, Mary was dissolving the circle.

I turned to Al, and we embraced tightly enough to cut off air circulation. "I love you," I whispered into his ear.

"I'll be waiting," he told me.

We let each other go solemnly, stepping a distance apart.

I tuned in on Mary's voice again. "The circle is open, but unbroken. Blessed be."

My heart gave a lurching tear, but I took a deep breath. This was my show and somehow, I had to carry the load for both of us. I smiled at Al reassuringly.

Mary came over to me, as the others filed out. She took my hands. "We will continue to do spells for you. I wish you luck against your opponent."

"Thank you, Mary."

"Let me know if there's anything else you need."

I nodded distractedly, eyes seeking out Al. He was walking away slowly, head down. In a moment of panic, I was afraid I'd made a mistake. What if what we'd done only made him worse?

Concerned, I ran after him. In my haste, I didn't bother to be concerned about distance. Only instead of passing through him--I ran into solid flesh and almost fell onto my butt, just managing to keep my balance.

Al's eyes widened, but he was immobile. I had no such problem. Having figured out something wonderful just happened, I recovered in an instant and grabbed him up in my arms, spinning us around. I didn't know how, and I didn't care. All I cared about was the man in my arms.

I put him down and grinned like an idiot, as Mary came up to us. She looked as stunned as we were by the development.

"How?" I asked her.

I could tell her mind was at work, but not what she was thinking. "I have never seen such a strong manifestation of magic in all my years as a Witch," she admitted. "You are more powerful than you realize."

My grin became even wider, as I threw care to the wind and wrapped my arm around Al's waist. "I'm beginning to."

"Good. The most dangerous person is one who doesn't know his own power."

"Amen," Al whispered, with a smile for me.

Still, I had a feeling she knew more than she was telling. "It's late," she announced." Why don't you two stay here for the night, we'll talk in the morning."

Again, she was right in tune with our needs. If our 'friends' were out, it was better we both got some rest before dealing with them.

"Thank you, again," I said.

 

* * *

 

Month for month, I always figured I'd had a pretty traumatic life, full and climactic. But the past few days had topped all the previous years, in its pain...and definitely in its joy. I had to wonder how much one person could take. And I knew it wasn't over yet.

I certainly wasn't complaining right now. We'd bid our good nights to Mary and retired to the guest room. Sam smiled at me almost self consciously, while he took off the robe. I gulped as his body was unveiled to me once again, thinking of how he'd given himself to me a short time ago. The trust and honesty of the gesture was more beautiful than I could recall making love ever being.

Finally aware that I was staring, I shook myself out of my trance and began undressing myself. There was no talking while we prepared for bed, as if breaking the silence would break the spell. He turned off the light. The moon shone through the window, lending a decent amount of light to the room.

"Why do you suppose I'm still here?" I asked. Suddenly I had a need for a dose of normality.

"Ask me if I care," Sam responded, coming into my arms and taking over the job of discarding my shirt. "It's the magic we made," he said with a grin, kissing my neck.

It was weird. Suddenly he was the one believing without question, me the one wanting a better explanation. "That's the best you can do, Dr. Beckett?" I teased.

"Give me a break, I'm in love." His smile lit up the room.

He had a point. I guess I was so used to worrying, I had trouble stopping. But no matter what happened next, at least I was really there with him. I took the liberty of exercising my new rights, and brought our lips together.

After a few minutes of sharing tender kisses, Sam pulled away. "We need to get some sleep," he reminded.

"Easier said than done," I warned. I tried to remember if kissing any woman had ever made my head spin. Maybe it was just lack of sleep.

Sam climbed into bed, waiting. I finished undressing and slipped gratefully into his arms.

The last thing I wanted to do was sleep, but I felt exhaustion catching up with me faster than I could stop it. Against my will, my eyes drooped closed. Sam didn't help, petting me with lulling caresses. I felt the void claiming me and couldn't resist its pull. For the first time in days, I was about to get a real night's sleep.

 

* * *

 

Sun streamed into the kitchen, warming it with a golden glow. "Good morning," I greeted Mary as I entered.

She turned form her cooking. "Good morning, Sam. Did you sleep well?"

I nodded. "Al was out like a light almost the moment his head hit the pillow." I wandered over to the window, inspecting the collection of herbs growing in a box on the sill. "I can't thank you enough--if you knew what you've done for Al..."

She smiled. "It's you who's done the most."

I decided to give into my curiosity before Al joined us. I only wanted him to know what he could handle. "What exactly did happen out there last night?"

Mary hesitated, then spoke softly. "Sex magic can be very powerful."

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I tried to hide my embarrassment by becoming fascinated with the view of the backyard. If I had any doubts before about her knowing what we'd done, they were just taken away.

"Help yourself to a cup of coffee. Do you like blueberry pancakes?" she asked.

I silently blessed her for her tact. "Love 'em." I took her up on the offer, sitting down at the table with my mug. My mind drifted back to my awakening, a short time ago. The first moment of realization had been accompanied by a hesitant reaching out to find one real shoulder. Somehow, I'd resisted the urge to claim those irresistible lips, and left him to get the rest he needed.

"How long do you think Al will be here?" I asked.

"I really don't know how long the effect will last," she answered. "Maybe until you leave here."

There were times before when I wanted to stay in a leap, but none as strong as this time. Yet I knew it couldn't be. The only thing to do was enjoy what time we were given. I sipped at my coffee, and waited for Al to get up.

When Al entered the kitchen, it got even more sunny. "Good morning," he said quietly. I could have sworn I detected a slight blush tingeing his cheeks.

"Good morning," Mary responded. "If you'd like some coffee, help yourself."

Al took a cup over to the stove. "Everything you're doing to help us is really great, thanks."

"You're not used to people helping you without expecting payment?" she asked.

"I...well, not strangers."

"Or Witches?"

"I've never known any," Al answered. "I used to think a couple of ex-wives...but I realize now, that's an insult to you." As he sat down, his hand found its way onto my shoulder, caressing warmly. "Good morning, Sam."

"It sure is," I smiled at him.

Then Mary was dishing out the pancakes, and food once again claimed Al's 'attention. Talk was sparse after that. We ate breakfast in companionable quiet, me watching him shovel the food down enthusiastically.

There was so much I wanted to discuss with Mary, but somehow, before I knew it, we were finished eating and bidding our farewells. The words just never came.

As we left, I wondered if we'd ever see her again.

 

* * *

 

At first I was so high on the reality of Al and me, I couldn't see beyond that. We made it back to Kean's with only one minor incident, when he forgot he wasn't a hologram and almost got mowed over crossing the street. Otherwise, he seemed just fine now, happy and contented. The change was miraculous. Maybe that's why I didn't trust it. It was too good to be true. As much as I wanted to believe everything was going to be okay, I had to face the truth, for Al's sake. A man in the middle of a nervous breakdown does not get better--just like that, with a snap of the fingers. There were certain things love alone could not heal.

I was also guilty of not wanting to spoil whatever time we had with psychoanalysis. For the moment I just stayed close, lavishing lots of TLC on his wounded spirit with my presence.

As I picked out some clean clothes for him from Murphy's wardrobe, my mind was in turmoil. If I didn't remind him of the harsh realities, it might be worse for him.

Kean's pants were longish on Al, but with the legs folded up, and a black cotton button up shirt, didn't look half bad. He dressed in front of the full length mirror, complaining about the pants being too long, and too tight.

"I think they're just fine," I answered, coming up behind him and putting my arm around him.

"You would,' He said with a smile, leaning back into me.

I studied our reflection in the mirror. If only it was me I saw there and not Kean... I unbuttoned the first three buttons of Al's borrowed shirt. “There. Perfect." I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever be able to look into a mirror and see us both, together. "Al--" I began.

"When's the last time you had something besides TV diners and sandwiches?" Al asked, changing the subject.

"Awhile," I answered distractedly.

"I know. So I'm going to fix us a terrific dinner tonight," he began enthusiastically. "Steaks and salad and...ears of corn..." he decided, as I nibbled at his earlobe.

 

* * *

 

Al kept his promise and I kept my silence, as he threw a couple of steaks onto the broiler and made a salad. He hummed while he worked. I sat at the kitchen table watching him, chewing on my lower lip in indecision.

"Al?" I finally said.

"Yeah?"

"We have to complete this leap."

"I know," he answered in a distracted tone. I wondered if he even heard me.

"Are you sure...you're okay?"

I guess my tone of voice finally got through. He left the stove and came over to stand in front of me. I closed my legs around his, keeping him there.

Al took my hands. "I know what you're getting at. You want to know if I can handle everything." He released a hand to caress my cheek. "As long as I'm here with you, I can handle anything. Afterwards, I'll deal with it too, because we're a team no matter what. And I'll never let you down, you should know that by now. Please trust me, baby."

What could I say to that? "I do." I kissed his hand.

Al smiled. "Remember that phrase for when you get home." He squatted down beside me.

"Is that a proposal?" I asked breathlessly. I suddenly knew how women felt, when proposed to by the man they loved. Unfortunately, I remembered something else too, something I couldn't ignore.

"You don't think I'm letting you go now, do you?" he asked with a grin.

"What about--" _Donna_. I bit down on my reply.

"What about what?"

"Nothing."

Al tipped my chin up. "Spill it."

I cursed my thoughtless slip. He had enough to deal with, without laying that burden of guilt on him. I knew Al. But it was very possible he was thinking about it already. I had to put his mind at ease.

"I'll need a good divorce lawyer," I told him with a smile meant to convey my confidence in my decision.

Al looked at me strangely. "Don't you think you should give us a chance before you quit?" he joked.

"I meant..." I let it trail off.

Comprehension dawned in his eyes. His smile was just a little hesitant and sad. "You mean Donna. Sam, you aren't married to her anymore."

"She left?"

"Well, not in that sense. When you changed our timeline again, you wiped that out. In this one, you never married her."

I digested the information. Here I'd just remembered her and now she was gone. it was disconcerting to realize I had a whole new life I couldn't remember, it was almost like being swiss-cheesed all over again. But at least I didn't have to worry about either of us feeling guilty. "Has much changed?"

"That's the biggest one. But we'll have time for all that later. Right now, don't we have better things to do?"

I couldn't fault his idea of better things. We kissed until the smell of the food demanded Al's attention.

 

* * *

 

"Where's your precious Sam Beckett now?" The tone raised the hackles at the back of my neck. I knew that voice, only too well.

"If you touch him..." I began threateningly.

The laugh was pure evil. "And what do you think you're going to do about it, peon?"

"I won't let you hurt him--you can count on that. I know who you are." I forced myself to meet the burning, glowing eyes.

"Yes, we've met before. And shall meet again--if you succeed this time." Abruptly, he was gone. And he'd taken Sam.

"SAM!" I screamed...

And was awake, heart pounding, and gasping for breath. I could have sworn I smelled the faint traces of smoke...

One minute I was dreaming, the next in the middle of reality.

Sam was shaking me awake. "The shed's on fire!" he yelled, then threw on a pair of jeans and headed for the door.

I scrambled out of bed, trying to unfog my mind. Even woken so abruptly, I still felt disoriented, like I was swimming in molasses. I hastily pulled on the pair of pants I'd been wearing, grabbed a shirt, and ran after him.

The shed was indeed on fire, flames and smoke billowing into the night. It had been going for quite some time, the only thing left to do was let it burn. I looked around for Sam to tell him so...and he was gone.

I was seconds behind him at the most, I swear. Not enough time for him to have...to have...what?

It seemed very loud, or maybe it was just the roaring in my ears. I screamed his name over and over, but there was no answer. I peered into the fire, almost forgetting I wasn't a hologram again...no way he would have...

No, that wasn't what happened. I cursed myself for not seeing it--the fire was just a diversion. They had Sam. And I had to find him, before it was too late.

This time, I couldn't be too late.

The nightmare of finding Sam lying in that street exploded fresh in my mind; I felt the madness wash over me again, and I fought it away. I had to keep it together, if I was going to help him.

If only I had access to Ziggy, I could have locked onto Sam in a second. But that would mean I'd be a hologram, and unable to do anything to help... _Wait a minute--I_ _ **can**_ _use Ziggy!_ I tore into the house, looking for the handlink.

It wasn't where I'd left it.

I tossed half the living room before the certainty came over me. It wasn't in the house at all. And that's when I got really scared. Sicko Satanists were one thing...but they couldn't have known about the handlink, known to take it. Images of the dream, of an old adversary, turned my blood to ice.

I plunged into the darkness of the woods, just as the shed gave one final shudder and collapsed in on itself. The only thing left was the dying embers, as the fire went out. If there was even a fire in the first place. Judging by what happened in the beginning of the leap, I had reason not to rely on anything my senses told me.

I couldn't shake the feeling that we'd fallen right into his trap.

I concentrated, letting instincts and our bond lead me to Sam. I knew I'd find him, I had a feeling that's the way 'they' wanted it.

 

* * *

 

I'd been watching the fire and waiting for Al, when strong hands grabbed my arms. The gun in my ribs persuaded me not to struggle, as I was dragged away into the woods. I counted five of them, faceless bodies in hooded robes. It was the oldest trick in the book, creating a diversion, and I'd fallen for it. I could have kicked myself.

"What are you going to do with me?" I asked as we trudged along.

"None of your business," One of the men growled. "Just keep your mouth shut!" A sharp jab in my ribs with the gun barrel punctuated his statement.

"I don't like this," another began nervously. "We don't have time to be messing with this--not with the buy happening tonight."

"Shut up!" the one who'd poked me told him.

There was no further talk, but I'd heard enough to tell me that these 'Satanists' were actually drug dealers. Not that it mattered one way or the other to me--either way, I was in deep trouble.

Where was Al?

 

* * *

 

I ached all over. My hands and feet were tied painfully tight behind me. They'd bound me and dumped me in what looked to be an old outhouse. I could hear rustling outside, but couldn't make out anything definitive. If it was a horror movie, I would have slept with the lights on. Unfortunately, it was real life.

I figured they used the woods as a meeting place for their deals, and the Satanist thing as a cover. Kean had gotten too close to uncovering the truth, and they didn't intend to let him continue to be a threat.

To let _me_ be a threat...I didn't know what had happened to Al, and that was the worst part. Always before, he'd been just a hologram. Rarely did I have to give a thought to worrying about him. That was wrong of me--to assume physical injuries were the only kind that mattered. And now, if he didn't come through for me this time, it would be my fault...unfortunately, he'd pay the price.

I'd been working on the ropes for awhile, vainly trying to loosen them, when the rustling got closer. I tensed. The door opened and I felt weak with relief when Al fell to his knees beside me.

"Sam! Are you okay?" he whispered frantically.

"I think so. Al--they're drug dealers. That's why they're so angry--" The look he gave me chilled me to the core. "--aren't they?"

Instead of answering, he began untying the ropes around my ankles. "We've got to get out of here!"

"You think?"

"Shit," he swore softly. "Whoever tied this must have been in the Navy."

"What took you so long?" I hissed as he got the rope off and started to help me to my feet. "Not yet," I warned. "I've been tied up so long, the circulation's cut off." I began rubbing my ankles.

"What are you talking about, Sam? I went right after you, it's only been about ten minutes."

I shook my head. "I've been tied up here for over an hour." He stared at me, making me feel I had to continue. "I heard a noise and went to check it out--that's when I saw the shed had started burning -"

"Started?" Al interrupted. "It was almost over by the time I got -and you didn't wake me?" he said in an ominous tone, abruptly switching tracks.

"Yes, I did. You said you were right behind me."

"I must have fallen back to sleep..." he whispered guiltily.

I put my hand on his arm. "No, probably not. For the same reason I woke you, when I was already gone. But remember, there's still a reasonable explanation. Drug dealers would have access to a lot of different drugs."

Al didn't comment, but I could tell he was skeptical. He untied my hands, and I tried moving them, almost crying out with pain. He rubbed my wrists to try and get the circulation back.

"What the hell's happening?" he asked, eyes wide with fear, and I was reminded anew how close to the edge he'd been playing this one.

But I had no time to worry about it. "Can we just get the hell out of here?"

"Good idea."

Al helped me struggle to my feet and we turned--to see four hooded figures standing in the doorway.

"I don't think so. Not when you've just joined us," the closest one said.

With guns pointed at our heads, we had no choice but to obey.

 

***

 

We were led to a clearing, where others were waiting. Too many others--we were hopelessly outnumbered.

"What are you gonna do with us?" Sam demanded.

"Such a silly question for such an intelligent man," one of the hooded figures spoke, in a voice I knew well. It was the one from my dream.

"If you hadn't started messing with me, I never would have found out about the drugs," Sam began, stalling. I knew it wasn't going to do any good, this time. "Why didn't you just leave it alone?"

"Sam--" I began nervously. "I'm not sure..."

"Anyway," our enemy continued, ignoring him. "You have the rare honor of being part of one of the most sacred rituals. The sacrifice."

He nodded his head, and the men holding Sam dragged him to the center of the crowd, forcing him onto his back on the ground. There were stakes by his feet and wrists. One of the men (if they were really human men) was holding a knife.

I had to buy time, somehow... "You can't sacrifice him--he isn't a virgin!" I blurted.

"That's what you think," the evil one told me with a smile.

Sam was fighting them, and so far had prevented them from tying him--but it was just a matter of time.

"I won't let you do this!" I yelled.

"You can't stop me, my old friend. You aren't even here! I just let you think you were," he said with an evil chuckle.

Terror coursed through me at his words. I spun around, realizing no one was holding me anymore. Desperately, I tried to grab one of them--but my hands went through him. I was a hologram again. " _No_!" I yelled, eyes darting to Sam.

They'd tied his feet to the stakes, but he was still struggling. "It's in your mind, Al!" Sam yelled. "He wants you to think you're not here!"

But how could I, a mere mortal, ever hope to beat them? I tried ineffectually to make a physical difference...but I was only a hologram. Then I froze, as he took the knife and held it up over Sam's prone body.

I forced myself to concentrate on all I'd learned in the past 48 hours. There was a power stronger than evil--he just wanted me to think it wasn't... Evil, like good, was everywhere. Sam was right--there was no such thing as the devil. Just evil that wanted you to think it was omnipotent. That got its power from us.

"Say goodnight, Gracie--" he started to plunge the knife downward.

"I won't let you kill him!" I yelled. I spun around and grabbed a gun from one of the others. It was cold and hard--real--in my grasp. I whirled on him and fired... The bullet hit its target, and he fell on top of Sam. For one brief moment I knew pure terror, afraid the knife might have plunged into Sam anyway. Then I thought I heard him saying something about being okay...

The next thing I knew the roaring was back...like the fire. No, not roaring, buzzing...

"Al? Al!"

I was being shaken, gently but insistently. I opened my eyes into Sam's face. "Wha--" was all I was coherent enough to mumble.

I realized what the noise was, just as Sam informed me. "Someone's at the door."

He started to get up, and, caught in the throes of my nightmare, I grabbed his hand in an iron grip. "You're not going anywhere without me."

"Let's go then," he said, patiently waiting for me to throw on my clothes.

Before answering the door, Sam went to the window and peered through the curtain. He glanced at me. "It's Sheriff Rich," he said, and opened the door. "Sheriff?"

The Sheriff nodded to Sam. "'Evening. I don't mean to bother you, but I thought you'd like to know we caught those Satanists."

"Huh?" we both uttered.

"They set a fire in the back of the Greeley property. Deputy Gibbons just happened to be riding by and caught 'em red handed, as they say. They even had the Greeley's dog, ready to slaughter."

"That's great--that you caught them, I mean," Sam amended.

"You didn't have anything to do with them getting caught, so they shouldn't be bothering you anymore."

"Uh, thanks for stopping by," Sam mumbled distractedly.

"'Night," he gave us an odd look, I thought, then tipped his hat and stepped outside.

Sam closed the door as the Sheriff started for his car. "That's it?" he asked, a little dazed. "Kinda anticlimactic, but I guess originally Kean just went off the deep end and--" he stopped, as if remembering that could very well describe me.

Maybe it did, but I said what was on my mind anyway. "It's always like this, isn't it? You never win completely, just until the next time. Always till the next time..."

Sam laughed nervously. "Or maybe this was all just an LSD flashback. Some pair we are..."

I knew my next words weren't going to reassure him. "I wish it was. I know you're gonna think I'm crazy, but...we had our confrontation with them in the woods. they were gonna...sacrifice you," I shuddered. How could I be telling him all this, when chances were, at the very least he'd tell me it was just a nightmare. At the worst...

Sam stepped closer. "I believe you, Al," he whispered, holding out his arms. I looked down--at the angry red rope burns that stood out clearly against his light skin.

I took gentle hold of his arms, and kissed the bruises.

And, the blue haze enveloped us.

 

 

THE END.

 

10/24/92

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
